His Mothers' Son
by Angelone2
Summary: Heath Thomson is working for the Barkley Family. How will Leah Thomson's visit to Stockton change Heath and the Barkley's lives, especially when two men are out for revenge...on Heath. Please read and review.


His Mothers' Son

Stockton, California 1876

His azure eyes were filled with pride in the woman who sat across from him at Stockton's newest restaurant. Out of the corner of his observant eye, he saw Nick and Jarrod Barkley accompany their mother and sister into the restaurant. With the waiter leading the family straight towards them, Heath stood, smiling happily.

"Nick!" he called lightly. "Ya didn't say ya were coming here for supper."

"Don't recollect telling ya, Boy," Nick teased back. "Mother decided we should go out and celebrate the counselor's birthday. This must be your mother."

"Of course. Excuse me. This is my mother, Mrs. Leah Thomson. Mother this is my boss, Nick Barkley, his brother Jarrod, Miss Audra Barkley and Mrs. Barkley." Did Heath imagine it or did his mother's face turn a fine shade of pale white? Quickly he hurried to her side as she nodded politely to the group. So concerned was he that he didn't notice Victoria staring with deep intent on the petite dark haired woman who resembled her when her hair was not white.

"We're pleased to meet you," Audra offered.

"Mother?" Heath asked. His concern was evident, quickly picked up by the rest of the family.

"Mrs. Thomson, may we be off assistance?" Jarrod asked with his fine manners. Leah Thomson shook her head.

"No, No, please don't make a fuss. I suppose I'm just tired. I just arrived at the Stockton Hotel this morning. It's a pleasure to meet you all." Leah's pretty brown eyes peeked out of a face grown old before its time. Her skin was pale, thin, drawn, even though she had to be younger than Victoria who was as beautiful as her teenage daughter. Heath couldn't help the observance. Instead of feeling shame, he only felt pride. Nick looked to Heath who gave him a slight nod.

"I'll see you bright and early, Boy," he ordered. "Got lots of branding to do in the morning."

"Don't I know it, Nick. Reckon I'll earn my pay on your place one way or another."

"You know you will," Nick grinned. Heath grinned back. The Barkley's proceeded to their table. Heath watched them for a minute, then knelt by his mother's side.

"Mother? Are you tired? Do you want to go back to the hotel?"

"Yes, I think so, Heath. I...I didn't realize you were working for the Barkley's. When you said you were working as an assistant foreman on a ranch, I never dreamed..." Heath was confused. He stood, lifting his mother to her feet. Her work worn hand framed Heath's rugged face. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

"The Barkley's are good people, Mother. They treat all their employee's well. I have a good future with them."

"So you should, Son," Leah replied fondly. "You deserve the best, you know, always."

"And I'm going to give you the best, Mother. You aren't going to work your fingers to the bone anymore. Now, let's get you to bed. You need your rest." Heath left a quarter tip on the table. They hadn't had time to eat, but food wasn't essential to either Heath or Leah. They had gone without food often. The Barkley's left Heath's mind as quickly as his mother's health occupied it. With her arm in his, the young blond led his mother out of the restaurant and back to her hotel room. Behind him, he left chaos at least in the mind of Victoria Barkley.

hr

She watched him go, watched the young blond man with the mother he so obviously adored. She had seen him about the ranch, noticed his passing resemblance to her late husband over the past several weeks. Heaven only knew Nick raved about his new hand, insisted he could do the work of two men, had integrity, wit and would make a heck of a good foreman some day, as well as a good friend. Victoria suddenly knew she could not go on listening to her children talk about Jarrod's newest court case and Nick's concerns about the upcoming round up. She stood, her sons immediately following her lead.

"Mother?" Jarrod asked. "Is something wrong?" Nick and Audra were just as concerned. Victoria waved her smooth hand up in the air.

"I'm fine. I think I just need a breath of air."

"I'll go with you," Audra offered.

"No, no," Victoria deferred. "I think I just need a walk. I'll be back in twenty minutes, in time for dinner. Jarrod, you know what to order for me. Enjoy yourselves. Please." With her sweater about her shoulders, and her long dark blue velvet skirts following her, Victoria made a quiet regal exit from the hotel. Outside the spring evening was fine and warm, but not too warm for her dark blue sweater. Gliding down the wooden sidewalk, she made short work of the walk to the hotel. If she knew Heath, the way Nick described him, she'd see him leaving the hotel soon. And she was right. From a vantage point across the street, she witnessed the young man come out of the hotel and take his horse down towards the livery. She didn't know how much time she would have when she realized he wasn't going back to the ranch, but instead to the livery. Hurrying up to the hotel, she stopped at the desk to find that Mrs. Leah Thomson was in room 210. Taking a deep breath, she walked up the stairs. She didn't care that she was seen. What she was doing was her own business and no one would dare question Victoria Barkley.

Knocking on the door, Victoria had to wait only a minute before the door slid open, and Leah Thomson appeared before her. Her smile was every bit as gracious as Victoria herself.

"I expected you," she said. "I told Heath I needed to take a nap. He'll be back in an hour."

"Thank-you." Victoria stepped into the hotel room. She was familiar with the plain but clean rooms where she stayed when she couldn't get back to the ranch for some reason or another. She made herself comfortable on a lounge chair near the window. Leah sat in a hard back chair that she pulled from the desk. Silence filled the room as heavy as a dense fog for several minutes. Neither woman seemed to know what to say. A man and his son stood between them.

"Tom told you," Leah offered. "I knew when Heath introduced us." Victoria looked down at her gloved hands. It was not often she found herself in such a distinctly uncomfortable position. Swallowing her pride, she nodded.

"Almost as soon as he came back." Leah sighed.

"If I had known, things might have been different for Heath," Leah murmured, closing her eyes. She shook her head. "All these years, all this time and it never occurred to me he would have told you. I'm not surprised. He loved you very much and he did have trouble with lies."

"I didn't know about Heath," Victoria returned, her voice barely above a whisper, but still matter of fact, and daring.

"Neither did Tom," Leah assured her. "I never told him." Victoria bit her lip in relief.

"Thank-God."

"Did you know Heath was Tom's son?" Leah returned with a slightly accusatory tone. Victoria remained immobile in her chair.

"No, not until tonight. Oh, I'd seen Heath on the ranch. But it never occurred to me. I don't know why. I really don't. I'm sorry, Mrs. Thomson."

"It's Leah," the lady replied graciously. "And you have no reason to be sorry. He's a good boy, Mrs. Barkley. He...I call him my golden child. He's a gift. I've told him often that his father would be proud." Victoria smiled.

"You should hear Nick go on about him," she agreed. "You have a right to be proud and yes so would Tom."

"I don't want Heath hurt," Leah warned. "I should have told him long ago, but I didn't want him to feel as though he were anything less than what he is. I wasn't certain Tom would accept him."

"Or me," Victoria answered.

"Most especially you. You were innocent. I couldn't ruin your marriage or hurt your children. I won't make excuses, nor would I hold Tom with a child." Tears cascaded down Victoria's face at Leah's candor. "Heath was my gift from Tom."

"I'm beginning to think he is a gift from Tom period," Victoria observed. "Heath deserves to know the truth."

"But how," Leah cried. "How can I tell him now?"

"We can tell them all, all the children together," Victoria suggested.

"How will your sons and daughter accept him?"

"The way I will...as a legacy from their father."

"If only life were that simple," Leah sighed. She looked out the window. Victoria realized the woman was watching for Heath. Standing, she smoothed her skirts.

"I better get back. Will you be staying long?"

"Heath is trying to get me to move to Stockton," Leah answered. "He wants to rent a house for me. I want to open a seamstress shop." Victoria kept her emotions intact. Leah was a perceptive woman.

"Perhaps that's a little much. I won't let him make any plans yet."

"I'll come into town tomorrow and we can talk again," Victoria told her. She started towards the door. Leah's hand on her shoulder made her turn around.

"Mrs. Barkley, Heath is special. He has his father's heart, his compassion and loyalty. He has a great capacity for love, but he has been terribly injured by the circumstances of his birth and a hell suffered during the war that I have not been able to penetrate. Do not hurt him or you will answer to me." Victoria's voice trembled as she spoke with her own emotional spirit.

"I'm a mother too, Leah. I will do my best never to hurt your child. I give you my word." She left the room, the regal Mrs. Barkley with Leah Thomson watching her. Feeling choked by the scene that had just occurred, Leah decided to go outside. She grabbed her shawl, along with her reticule containing her hotel room and about fifty cents in change. She'd wait for Heath outside. Walking down the wood walk, she saw Mrs. Barkley go back into the restaurant. Leah's heart palpated at the thought of Heath's brothers and sister. They were fine looking young people, the boys not really looking like Tom, but imitating his charm and bravado. Tom had raised them well. As for the girl, she looked so much like Heath. Was she as modest as her son, she wondered. The lady's face lit up as Heath appeared from the saloon. He hurried across the street towards his mother. Reaching her, he hugged her close, trembling a bit.

"Heath? What's wrong?" she demanded.

"Nothing, Mother. I just...well there were some men in the saloon I knew once. Never expected ta meet em here. Don't like em much."

"Well if you don't like them that must mean something." Leah's light laughter rang through the air. Together they walked back towards the hotel.

"Mother, I can always count on you to support me."

"You're usually right in your instincts, Heath. You've got a good head on shoulders."

"You think so, do you?" Heath laughed. From behind them, they heard footsteps. She squeezed his arm, and planted a kiss on his cheek with another laugh.

"I know so. I love you, Son." Heath grinned just as a male voice broke in behind them.

"Turn around, Barkley," a man said. Heath and Leah froze in their footsteps. They heard the click of a trigger being pulled back. Another followed. Heath made a split second decision. Shoving his mother aside, he turned, drawing his gun immediately. He felt a hot burning pain in his chest and heard more gunfire. His legs were weak. Falling to his knees, he could think of only one thing.

"Mama!" he gasped. One of the men kicked Heath so that he hit the ground on his stomach. Heath felt the cold iron in his ear. The man didn't speak, simply pulled back the trigger. Heath threw his arm up in the air knocking the gun out of his assailant's hand just as it fired.

"Damn you, Thomson," the man cried. "This aint finished." The men turned and fled like the cowards they were. Pulling himself to a sitting position, Heath's azure eyes failed to focus at first until they came to gaze on Leah's body, unmoving.

"Mama?" his voice asked, uncertain, frightened, weak. "Mama? Mama, answer me!" People came running. The Barkley's came with them. Unable to think, unable to do, Heath flopped forward, then used what little strength he had to crawl to the lady who gave him life.

"Mama! Oh, God, Mama, I'm sorry..." His breath short, his chest exploding in an agony of torment and fear, Heath pushed the slender form over only to realize his worst nightmare.

"Mama! No!" Leah's silent chest was now covered in scarlet. Heath wanted to lift her, hold her, hug her and breathe for her. "Mama, don't...leave..." The words hung in the air, his desperate plea unheard. He let himself fall his head resting against her breast just one more time.

"Dear God," Victoria Barkley breathed. Audra buried her face in Jarrod's broad chest, her lawyer brother's arms protecting her from the ghastly scene. Leah's face was pure white, the blood stopped now that her heart no longer beat. Nick bent down by Heath. Feeling the firm fingers at his neck, Heath looked up. His pitiful eyes were filled with grief.

"I killed her...Nick...let me die." Nick grasped Heath's shoulder with sympathy, then lifted Heath in his arms as someone came running with a board to carry him on.

"Not on your life, my friend. Ya aint giving up the the ghost now, do ya hear?" Heath's last conscious thought was of the mother he had just killed. He wanted only to die and he didn't give a damn for anything else, not even Nick. He knew he never would again.

Chapter 2

Two weeks later

His mind was one of despair, of hopelessness. Distantly he was aware the lady caring for him was not the gentle touch of his mother, but still the maternal soul of a kind woman. Every time he whispered her name, the lady answered, but it was not the one he wished for.

"Mama," he tried again opening the hazel orbs to see who tended him so selflessly. Her hand touched his warm forehead.

"Sh, Heath. You're fine now. You're just fine."

"Mama," Heath repeated. Victoria Barkley's empathy shone in her spirit.

"I'm sorry, Heath. She's not here. She can't come." Looking away, he found another angel sitting at his side. She smiled with her mother's care.

"I've been reading to you, Heath. Dr. Merar says you are getting better every day. Nick's chomping at the bit so you can get back to work again. I swear he's going to break a window when he asks mother if you're sleeping again with his loud voice." She was teasing. Heath understood that. He tried to smile but he didn't feel like smiling. He didn't want to feel anything. Looking away, he found Victoria again. For a second, a split second he swore Leah was tending him with her fragile touch. Unable to help himself, he let his hand touch her soft skin. His mother's face had never been quite so soft due to the harsh wind and hard life she lived. Victoria took his hand, smoothing it with her own slender fingers.

"That's right, Heath. You're getting well. Your mama would be happy. She loved you so much." His eyes snapped to attention.

"What?" was all he could manage.

"She told me, Heath. Now you rest and get better. She would be very hurt if you didn't carry on."

"I killed her!" he answered with all his heart and soul. Victoria shook her head.

"You didn't kill her, Son," her firm conviction told him. He still didn't believe her. She gave him some water. Again he tried to turn away.

"Heath Thomson, look at me," she insisted. "Heath, I said!" Funny how she sounded like his mama. Turning the blond head, he couldn't help but let his azure eyes meet her intense gaze.

"Heath, there are things you don't know right now, and I won't burden you with them, but when you are well, I promise you, you will never be alone again."

"Why?" he demanded. "Why do you care? I'm just a cowhand."

"You're Nick's friend and much more than that. Now take this water. I think we'll try some oatmeal and soft foods soon. You will eat every bite. You won't argue with me either." Heath didn't answer. Still he could not break his stare with Victoria. When he finally closed his eyes, he knew he had met a woman every bit as formidable as Leah Thomson. They were so alike, he thought. How could that be? He drank the water and followed Victoria's instructions to the letter. He just didn't have the energy to fight her, even as he grew stronger. There was nothing there to fight for, nothing but grief.

Nick's voice thundered through the house hours later just as Audra said it did. Funny, he didn't remember hearing Nick before.

"Well, Mother, is that lazy slug a bed up yet. How long before he gets up? For crying out loud, he's got work to do." Heath couldn't help a grin. Nick was so predictable. In the few months Heath had worked for Nick, he had grown accustomed to his loudness, respecting him for the good man he was. Nick loved the ranch, loved his family and treated every man as he treated himself. Heath wasn't surprised when Nick found his way to his room.

"Yep there he is," the dark-haired rancher announced stomping into the room with his spurs singing. "Lying in bed with the ladies waiting on him while I've got a ranch ta run. What is it with you, Boy? Ya got a hankering to sleep yer life away?" Normally Heath would have bantered back. He kept his eyes closed as if he were asleep. Nick slapped his leg, jerking the blue eyes open.

"Hey!"

"What? Too weak are ya, Boy?"

"I'm shot, Nick!" he objected. "Couldn't ya just let me be."

"Shot my eye. That bullet's been outta ya for two weeks. Doc says ya can get up when ya want only you won't."

"Ya don't understand, Nick."

"Nah, I spose I don't, ceptin I lost my daddy same as ya lost yer mama."

"I killed her, Nick. Iffn I hadn't shot at those men..."

"If ya hadn't shot at those men, ya probably both would be dead and ya know it. I don't know what they wanted but they weren't likely to leave a live witness ta murder were they?" Heath turned away again. He felt the bed springs give.

"Heath, come on. We were getting to be friends, weren't we?"

"Spose."

"Then let me help. When my father died, well I don't talk about it much but I reckon I'll always regret I couldn't save him either, even though I was with him. Got shot too." Nick's voice wasn't loud now, just matter of fact and sad.

"Sorry, Nick," Heath apologized more out of politeness than anything else.

"Ya won't forget, Heath. I'm not saying that."

"Than what are ya saying?"

"That I didn't think ya were a coward." Heath's blood boiled.

"Go to hell, Nick," he shouted pulling himself up into a sitting position.

"Well, maybe but if I do, it won't be before you!" Nick's disgruntled face wasn't what the blond had been expecting. Without waiting for a reply, Nick left the room, his spurs leading the way. Heath found Victoria standing in the doorway. Her fair face nodded to Heath for a second then hurried on after Nick. Heath laid down, his heart aching, but his blood pulsating again. Nick was right. He wasn't ready to die. At the very least he had something to live for. He had to avenge his mama's death. Those men were going to die and Heath knew exactly where to find them.

hr

"Well, Mother?" Jarrod asked sitting down at his desk while Victoria sat across from him in a wingbacked chair. She slid gracefully into the chair as Jarrod handed her a yellow envelope.

"Is this it?" she queried.

"All the information the Pinkertons could find out about Heath and Leah Thomson. You wouldn't like to enlighten me would you?" Victoria glanced at the unopened envelope and then at Jarrod. Putting it down on the table, she stood.

"You didn't read it?"

"I assumed it was private, until you decided to share with me or Nick and Audra." Victoria paced back and forth. In one full swoop she turned to her son, her gray skirts billowing out around her.

"I met with Leah Thomson before she died, Jarrod. As soon as I heard her name, I knew what Heath would mean to this family." Jarrod furrowed his finely etched brows in confusion.

"When?" he demanded

"That night, during supper," she demurred.

"When you needed a breath of air," Jarrod sighed.

"Yes."

"I don't understand. Heath means a great deal to Nick obviously, and you've nursed him day and night. I thought it was out of regard for Nick."

"What makes you think it wasn't," she teased a bit testing his logic and intelligence.

"I thought it was," he repeated. "Mother, you would do anything for us, for Nick or Audra or me. We know that. We've always known. That's one reason we love you so much."

"Why thank-you, Gallant Sir," Victoria laughed. Her laughter was a gift to her children. Jarrod couldn't help chuckling.

"So what is the story, Mother?" he finally managed to ask more seriously. She took a deep breath.

"It's a long story, Jarrod. I don't mean to be dramatic. I just don't know how to tell you, and I certainly don't know how to tell Nick or Audra."

"Don't know how to tell us what?" Audra asked gliding into the room from the patio with Nick after her. Victoria rolled her eyes. Jarrod could see his mother felt trapped. What was it about Heath he wondered. He knew the boy was emotionally fragile since the death of his mother, but then he remembered how he felt after his father's death. Those days were still a nightmare to him. He and Duke McCall, the family foreman found Tom dead with three bullet holes in him. One would have been sufficient to kill him. Three was rather excessive. They also found Nick, a bullet in his back. He had been awake the entire time, unable to move, temporarily paralyzed by the swelling in his back. That Nick walked again was a miracle. Now they needed another miracle, for Heath to heal and to find himself again. Jarrod couldn't help feeling an empathy for Heath. At least when his father died, Jarrod had his family. Heath had no one but them, only friends, strangers practically. Why was it the blond didn't feel like a stranger to him?

"Jarrod?" Nick intervened. "What's going on?"

"Don't ask your brother. He doesn't know any more than you," Victoria said. "Jarrod, I'm going to read this information. Then I will discuss it with you all in the morning." The petite lady took the yellow envelope. Anyone else and Nick would have refused to let them go, but no one argued with Victoria Barkley. The brothers and sister watched her glide through the door and upstairs. Nick turned to Jarrod.

"What the hell was that about?" Nick demanded. Jarrod's gaze went from his sister's blue eyes to Nick's inquisitive hazel. He shook his head in ongoing confusion.

"I wish I knew, Brother Nick. I wish I knew."

Chapter 3

He woke in the night, suddenly sitting up in bed, his body broken out in a sweat, his mind screaming against the nightmare that haunted him. For several minutes he quelled his terror, suppressing his need to scream for his mama. Looking around the dimly lit room, Heath heard Nick's words again.

"I didn't think ya was a coward." Heath wasn't a coward. Hadn't he proved that during the war or had he? Well, he'd left his mother to die that was for sure. Throwing back the covers, Heath sat up. The pain from his wound was still there, but he couldn't let pain stop him. Using his own mind to overcome the discomfort, the blond dressed and packed a bedroll. On the desk in his room he found pencil and paper. After writing a quick note, the young blond took his bed roll and made his escape.

A half hour later, after raiding the kitchen for some jerky and a canteen he found in a supply cabinet, he saddled his Modoc horse, Gal, speeding off into the night. Behind him, he didn't realize he was being followed. Leaning into Gal's neck, he rested his head, letting her trot along not towards Stockton, but turning on a road south leading towards Modesto. His chest felt as though it were on fire again. To take his mind off the pain he thought of his mother, of the lady she always was no matter how poverty stricken they were. Sometimes they had only potatoes from the garden to eat, or soup or even dandelion greens. Sometimes they had nothing at all. During those hungry days Leah would distract him with games and stories, ignoring her own hunger. Heath couldn't ever remember hearing his mother complain. Her courage was an inspiration. Once when she was telling him a story about a prince who was lost and his father and mother were searching for him, he asked her about his father. It was the one and only time he asked.

"Mama?" he asked in his seven-year old way. "Do you think my papa is looking for me?" She struggled. He could feel her tremble though she must have known he might ask given the subject of the story.

"Sweetie, what if your papa doesn't know about you? What if he had to go away before I knew you were coming?"

"I don't know," Heath answered to young to really understand what his mother meant.

"I didn't tell your papa about you, Heath," Leah confessed.

"Why, Mama? Cause I'm a Bastard?" Leah clutched the child to her.

"No, Heath, never that. I told you not to listen to anyone who uses that word. You are a love child. Your papa would be so proud of you. My sweet boy, you are my Golden child. Your father and I loved each other very much. Someday when you are older, I will tell him. And he can get to know you and love you as I do. Remember that. Remember that he would love you if I could tell him now." Heath was too young to truly understand his mother's words but he received great comfort from them. He would have asked more if she hadn't cried. Unable to hurt the mother he adored, the child never asked again about his father. His father. Why was he thinking about him now? Because his father was all he had left in the world. Would his father hate him for killing his mother, hate him as he hated himself? He must have slept for suddenly he felt himself sliding from the saddle. With a thud he hit the ground, groaning in pain.

"Mama," he whispered. "Mama."

"Boy, you are the darndest fool I have ever met," Nick's voice bellowed. Groaning again, Heath opened his eyes to see Nick trying to sit him up.

"Leave me lone, Barkley," the blond muttered.

"Fat chance of that," Nick scuffed. "Just where do you think you are going?"

"They killed my mama, wanted me," Heath muttered as Nick pulled him up, helping him to sit against a tree. Nick put a blanket over him.

"Idiot. You opened your wound. You're bleeding like a stuck pig." Surprised Heath looked down. Sure enough his shirt was red with blood. No wonder he felt so far away.

"Gotta stop em, Nick. They'll come back for me."

"Well, Boy, don't matter now. Yer not going anywhere but back to the ranch. Mother will beat me with her wooden spoon if I don't bring ya back." Indignation raced through Heath's vein's.

"What the hell does she care for?" he demanded. "Damn it, Nick, yer smothering me."

"We're not smothering ya. Yer just not used ta family. Boy ya must nota been home much. I could tell yer mother was as strong a lady as mine." Heath looked away at the mention of Leah Thomson. Nick took off the blond's sodden shirt.

"Boy, I ought to ring your neck for putting your life on the line. Can't afford to lose friends ta such foolishness."

"Mother hen," Heath muttered beneath his breath, rapidly becoming exhausted. Nick took some whiskey out of his side saddle, a small flask.

"Not thirsty," Heath mumbled seeing the flask.

"Not for ya. I'm going to wash out that wound. I aint gonna lie to ya Boy. It's gonna hurt like hell, but I don't plan to let infection set in." Heath didn't answer. He was rapidly falling asleep. Nick slapped Heath's face to waken him. When that didn't work, he poured a generous dollop of whiskey on the leaking wound. The burning made Heath sit up and take notice.

"Nick!"

"Well, had ta do something. You stay awake, Ya hear me. It's three hours back to the ranch. I can't carry ya back there. We're going to have ride double on Coco." Heath nodded, his blue eyes far away. Nick cringed a little fearful that the blond had lost too much blood to recover. After tearing part of Heath's blue chambray shirt and packing the now open wound, he took a clean shirt from Heath's saddle bag and put it on him. After putting everything away, he made Heath stand up and get on Coco. Heath protested.

"No, Nick. I can't."

"Yes, you can, you idiot."

"Gotta get them fore they kill your mother." Nick froze. So that was what brought Heath out of the house. He was trying to protect the Barkley's. Why was he surprised? This kid was one of a kind. No wonder he liked him.

"Heath, I promise, they won't get near Mother. Anyone who threatens her or us will get their heads blown off. I guarantee it." Heath's gaze met Nick's.

"I'm glad, glad...glad."

"Heath, ya gotta help me Friend." Nick put Heath's arm around his shoulder, and lifted the young man to his feet.

"We gotta get ya on Coco."

"Can't," Heath muttered.

"The hell ya can't." Nick wasn't taking no for an answer. Before Heath knew it, he was up on Coco. Nick threw himself up behind Heath before the blond could lose his balance. "Now just lean up against me, Friend, and we're going ta get ya home." Nick couldn't quite figure how he felt as Heath's head rested back on his shoulder. A surge of protection, feelings he had only ever experienced with Jarrod and Audra flowed through his hot Barkley blood. This boy...this boy was more than Nick could fathom. Leading Gal behind him, holding on to Heath, Nick vowed to help the young man find his way back from his present nightmare, if it was the last thing he did. And never again would he let Heath face a gun by himself, not if he could help it!

hr

"Mother we shouldn't leave that boy for long," Nick said as he walked into the living room. "What's so urgent."

"Nick, watch your tone," Victoria scolded. She sat on the red settee by the fireplace with her daughter next to her. Jarrod sat on a chair across from his mother, a large round marble table between them. Nick saw the yellow folder his mother had taken just forty-eight hours before. He sat on the table close to Audra, picking up the envelope and looking at it before his eyes met his mother's.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he apologized. "I'm just worried about him. Doc says he's as weak as a new kitten from blood loss."

"Nick, we're all worried about him. I'm just glad you found him the other night. It could have been so much worse," Victoria answered.

"Not much," Nick muttered thinking how Heath had been barely breathing when they got him, his clean shirt soaked yet again. He still wasn't out of the woods, and the doctor was considering a blood transfusion. Victoria closed her eyes as if praying for patience. She wore a yellow dress with a white fringe trim at the neck with frilly white sleeves. Next to her, her daughter was just as beautiful with her blond hair curling about her shoulders, her slender body accentuated by her dark blue skirts and trim bodice.

Victoria took the yellow envelope from her son, speaking as she opened it.

"I wanted to talk to you tonight about Heath and his mother. The information in this packet is from the Pinkerton agency." Nick stood, anger flaring before he listened to an explanation.

"You invaded Heath's privacy? Mother, he'll never forgive us."

"He will when he finds out why, Nick," Victoria answered. "Now be quiet and listen." Nick froze at those words. His mother's tone was dangerously tight...and trembling. She bit her lip telling him she was very nervous and upset. Sitting down, he patted her hand.

"I'm sorry, Duchess," he apologized simply. She touched his cheek with her hand. There was no need for an answer. Taking out the papers, she held them in her hand.

"You are right, Nick. I had no business having Heath investigated. I should have believed Leah when we met."

"But you only talked to her for a few minutes," Audra reminded her leaning towards her mother a bit. "What did she tell you?" Slowly Victoria confessed to her meeting with Leah.

"But why?" Audra cajoled. "Why did you have to see her?"

"Because your father and Leah Thomson knew each other when Nick and Jarrod were children. Your father told me immediately that he had had an affair with Mrs. Thomson. He never lied about it, and he never knew there was a child." She sat back watching her children's reactions. Jarrod spoke first as Audra stared at the papers on the table and Nick simply stood in stunned confusion.

"How do you know he didn't know?" Jarrod asked first.

"Leah assured me he didn't. She also assured me that Tom loved me."

"I should have known," Nick mumbled.

"What?" Jarrod asked. Nick leaned against the fireplace then slammed both his hands on the mantle.

"Damn him!" he swore.

"Nick, it isn't Heath's fault!" Victoria reminded him. Nick turned around, his temper broiling, his hazel eyes sparking his indignation.

"I know that!" Nick retorted. "It was his responsibility. Heath was Father's responsibility. How could he not know?"

"This isn't a surprise to you, Brother Nick?" Jarrod asked.

"He...he mentioned an affair, once. He cried in his whiskey. He said..." Nick sat down on the table. Taking Victoria's hands in his, he locked his eyes on hers. "He said he wasn't sorry for the affair, only that it hurt Mother, that he thought something good would come from it, and that he wished there had been a child, but the lady never contacted him again. He couldn't go back he said. He loved you too much." Tears fell from Victoria's eyes, along with her children's. Victoria continued the story.

"It wasn't entirely Tom's fault," she admitted. "We had just lost our baby, your sister Abby." Victoria smiled through her tears. "She was such an angel with that dark hair and her father's eyes. She caught whooping cough and died."

"I remember," Jarrod shuddered. "I can still hear that cough."

"You used to like to hold her. So did Nick, even though he wasn't quite three years old. After she died, I shut Tom out. I gave all my attention to you boys, refused to even share our room with him, much less anything else. He had business in Strawberry. He was gone for almost six months. When he came back, he couldn't keep the secret. He'd put a wall up between us. I told him if he didn't tell me what was wrong, it would stand between us forever. We both had to take the blame for the affair. He told me Leah's name, told me she was a kind honorable woman who helped him when he was injured. Oh, I was angry. I could have broke a few windows myself with the way I yelled. We sent you boys with Silas to stay with your uncle Jim in Colorado."

"I remember that too," Jarrod grinned, looking at Nick. "Brother Nick here started calling me Pappy then. He was four years old and was homesick just like me."

"I'm sorry for that," Victoria apologized, "But we had to have some time to ourselves. If we didn't, we couldn't have ironed out all the hurt feelings between us. We were both guilty. And Nick, this isn't entirely your father's fault. We could have talked to Leah, asked her about a child. We didn't. We just didn't." Nick's eyes darkened for a second. He squeezed Victoria's small hands lovingly not tightly.

"I just feel bad for him," the young rancher admitted. "He hasn't mentioned much about his childhood, but from what I gathered, it was pretty poor. We had so much. He had so little."

"I don't think so, Nick," Audra answered after some thought.

"How's that, Honey?"

"Jarrod, when Heath was with his mother, he knew he was loved. I don't call that poor." Nick flashed his smile. He patted his sister's knee as Jarrod answered.

"Words of wisdom from one so young." Audra blushed.

"You all make me very proud," Victoria told her children. "I thought you might be angry at your father, but I was more afraid you'd deny your brother." Silence fell among the three siblings.

"I'm going to check on him," Nick replied. "We'll figure this out, Mother, don't worry."

"He has to be told," Victoria said. "He has to know he isn't alone now, just because his mother died." Nick grinned again.

"I think he knows that after the other night."

"Nick is right, Mother. Heath found a home when he became Nick's friend because he became our friend. That he's our brother, is to our advantage, not necessarily just his." Tears flowed from Victoria's gray eyes, tears of pride and joy in her children. Nick bent over and kissed her forehead. With his spurs singing the young man took the stairs two at a time, coming to Heath's closed bedroom door. As he approached he heard movement.

"Fool Boy," the rancher muttered to himself. "If he's up, I'm going to strangle him." Opening the door Nick froze, unable to believe what he was seeing before he sprang into action.

Chapter 4

Heath was trying to sleep. Every time he opened his eyes, he wondered where Nick was. He didn't remember much about the ride home. What he did remember was that Nick never seemed very far away. The big rancher who could yell louder than an army sergeant and commanded instant obedience from his hands, gave Heath a sense that he had found a part of himself that was missing. Heath wondered in a way what he had done to receive Nick's respect. Whatever it was he hoped he didn't lose it, especially when he got better and left the ranch again to go after the men who killed his mother. Finally his eyes flickered shut as he started to fall off to sleep. Footsteps in the room didn't alert him. They were heavier than a woman's. He thought it was Jarrod until the door shut and a hand went over his mouth. Heath was instantly alert, his blue eyes focusing on the two men who had killed his mother.

"Well, Thomson," the one man drawled. Heath wasn't strong enough to fight back. Lifting his arms to push the man away, he found his arms held down easily by his assailant. He started to yell when the second man took a wet rag from the water sitting by Heath's bed and shoved it into his mouth. Heath gagged, choking on the rag as the men spoke tossing his head back and forth as the man held his arms down. The rag was pulled out a bit and Heath breathed a bit easier.

"Imagine our surprise when ya walked inta the saloon, Thomson. We been looking fer you for a long time." Heath watched them with his eyes.

"My brother and me, we been looking fer you for four years, ever since ya killed our daddy." Heath shook his head. The man hit Heath across the face, slapping him.

"Don't move, Thomson. You move again and I'll shoot you right now. Gimme that gun Bobby." Bobby handed his brother the gun. The men were actually well dressed in cowboy's duds, their boots clean, their hair combed and both clean shaven, appearing as harmless as any man who walked the street. Heath knew better, knew them for the robbers and murderers they were. He had killed their father when he worked as a deputy for Frank Sawyer. The boys had gotten away clean. He had seen them in the saloon in town, but refused them when they tried to call him out, so they had followed him, shot him and his mother. Now he knew they were here to finish the job.

"Whatcha gonna do, Pat," Bobby asked as the older man took the gun. Pat showed an evil grin. He pulled the trigger back. In a flash he replaced the choking rag with the cold metal pistol of the gun.

"I'm going to serve justice," Pat answered. Pat moved, sitting on Heath's legs, still holding his arms down with one hand and the gun in the other. Heath tried to struggle and found himself lacking. Nick, where were Nick and Jarrod?

"I'm going to show him the same mercy he showed our father."

"Ya can't shoot him, Pat. You'll bring everyone in the house up here. They're downstairs. We aint got that much time. Someone's bound to come up here." Still Heath didn't move. His blue eyes locked on Pat's. The cold metal tasted of death in Heath's mouth. Slowly Pat removed the gun. Heath would have screamed except Pat beat him to it by cuckolding him across the head. While Heath's head exploded in pain, Pat took his pillow out from under him, placing it over his face.

"How's this, Bobby. Think he'll suffer enough if he smothers himself."

"Works for me," Bobby answered. Heath wanted to shout now as the pillow came over him. At first he was okay but as the seconds went by the pillow came down on him hard. He tried to take in a breath, tried to breathe. He couldn't. He couldn't breathe. He was going to die. No! He fought, fought with everything he had as the men laughed.

"This is revenge Thomson. This is what it feels like." The pillow came down heavier. Just as Heath's blue orbs rolled back in his head, the pillow came off his face as gun fire erupted in the room. Heath barely heard anything as he clung to life, unable to speak, unable to breathe, unable even to think anymore.

"Heath!" Nick cried. "Heath." Heath let himself give into the darkness as Nick shook him.

"Heath!" Her voice reached him as he looked up. "Heath, my darling boy." He heard her but he couldn't see her. His mother was close. "Darling, your brother needs you. Don't leave him." What was she saying? Nick? His brother? No, he didn't have a brother. He was an only child. "They're your family my darling boy. They will love you if you will just give them a chance, just as I love you. Go back, Heath, go back." He hadn't seen her. He couldn't go back, he couldn't.

"Heath!" Victoria Barkley's voice screamed. But there was no answer. She looked to her children, shaking her head. Nick stared at the ghost like face. Sitting on the bed, his heart broken at the loss of this new found friend and brother, Nick pulled Heath's dead weight into his arms. The family ignored the two dead men on the floor. Audra wept in Jarrod's arms. Victoria stood behind Nick, her hands clasping his shoulders as his hand hit Heath on the back in anger.

"You're supposed to fight, Heath!" he hollered. "Ya can't just give up like that." He hit the lean back again in anger, hard and intense, certain Heath could no longer feel him. "We needed you. You belonged here, Boy. How can you leave us now?" One more hit and Nick could no longer keep the tears from falling.

"Nick, lay him down," Victoria pleaded. "He's gone."

"No!" Nick cried. "I can't. We just found him. We just..."

"Niiick," Heath moaned. Nothing could be heard in the room except for the breaths of each person, each different, each hardly daring to hope.

"Heath?"

"Did...did ya git em?" Nick started laughing, his deep happy laugh pattered with a bit of nervousness. He let Heath lay down again, and stared in shock at the azure eyes that had come to mean so much to him.

"I got em, Heath. They're not gonna hurt ya no more."

"Did...did I hear...right? We brothers?" Nick grinned at Heath. Jarrod and Audra joined their brother and mother at Heath's bedside. Victoria spoke for the family.

"You heard right, Heath. Your mother told us."

"Yes," Heath answered sleepily. "Yes, she did." The boy's face grew peaceful as he fell asleep. Nick patted Heath's hand.

"That's right, Boy. You sleep. You sleep cause when you wake up we've got a lot to talk about, a lot to talk about."

"He's a fighter," Audra admired leaning against Jarrod.

"He's a Barkley," Victoria whispered.

"He's our father's son," from Jarrod.

"Our brother, our little brother come home at last. Welcome home, Heath. Welcome home."

hr

"Nick, where are you taking me?" Heath demanded. It was the first time he had been up on a horse since the long night now several weeks passed. Victoria confessed his father and mother's story to him, even telling him the part Nick had confided to her, that Tom Barkley wanted him. Heath always resented not having a father, but he couldn't blame a man who didn't know of his existence. That was how he lived his life. Now that his mother was gone, he couldn't blame the family who treated him as family without grudging him. There were unsettled questions in his mind, grief for his mother, regret for the father he would never know and confusion as to who he really was. Now, following Nick, he wished they were just working so he could get rid of his frustrations.

"It's a surprise, Brother of mine and you aren't to keep asking."

"Nick, ya aint my keeper."

"Nope. Yer plenty stubborn and independent all on yer own."

"Don't you forget it either."

"Who me?" Nick's innocence made Heath roll his eyes. They came to a white picket fence that Jarrod seemed to be fixing. Nearby Victoria and Audra were planting flowers. The women, dressed in simple dresses with aprons covering the front of each dress came through the fence as the two men arrived. Jarrod finished filling the last fence hole with dirt. Rubbing his gloved hands on his pants he joined his mother and sister.

"What's this?" Heath queried. Looking past Jarrod, he didn't need an answer. Walking over to the picket face, he walked through the small open gate, staring at the two headstones. The first one he had seen over two months before.

"_Tom Barkley_

_1813 – 1870 Beloved Husband and Father. _

_Mourn for me with Morning in your Heart."_ It was the second stone that caught his attention. The fresh mound signified a new grave, Leah Thomson's grave, and the stone that signified her life and death. Heath stared at the headstone, then at the Barkley's. Kneeling down by the stone, his fingers touched the words that meant so much to him.

"_Leah Thomson 1830 – 1876_

_Beloved Mother of Heath Thomson Barkley_

_Remember me with Smiles and Laughter." _

Heath smiled sadly, lying down on the grave, holding the dirt close as if his mother would hug him in return. His family waited with respect until Heath kissed the mound of dirt. Standing he brushed off his yellow pants, leaving streaks of dirt on them and not caring. Walking to the family he seemed a little angry to them.

"Heath?" Nick asked. "Something wrong? We didn't mean to offend."

"Got the name wrong," he answered in a low tone.

"Your mother's?" Victoria asked.

"No," Heath snapped. "Mine." For several seconds everyone was quiet.

"Heath," Jarrod started. Heath held up his hand.

"Heath," Victoria said. "Your mother would have wanted you to be known for who you are. Please, don't deny her or us." Bending down, he kissed the lady on the forehead. Victoria couldn't know it was his mama he kissed for the last time, saying good bye to the mama he had lost and the family he was learning to accept.

"Heath, do you know how much money it would cost to change that headstone," Nick scolded. To everyone's amazement, Heath's golden laughter rang through the crisp morning air. He squeezed Audra's hand.

"I couldn't help it. You all were so serious. I don't know who thought of the inscription for Mama, but that's exactly what she would have wanted. So iffn I gotta go by Barkley ta let ya know how grateful I am, I reckon that aint a bad exchange."

"Boy, I'm gonna..."

"Heath, I declare, if I had my wooden spoon here," Victoria chided. She stepped forward, this tiny woman. She touched Heath's face, cupping it with her hands.

"She would be so proud of you," she told him. "She said you were a gift."

"Her golden child," Heath repeated. "I reckon I'm the luckiest man alive."

"How's that, Boy?" Nick asked. Heath looked from the graves of his parents to the eager faces of the family who had adopted him in heart if not in fact.

"Reckon no matter what happens to me I'll always be both my mothers' son." He hugged Victoria to him. "Thank-you!" She didn't reply. There was no need. Heath was indeed his mother's golden child...Leah's and Victoria's and he always would be.


End file.
